"No," I said with a deep sigh.

"And if I should ever call you Zhid, will you be angry with me?"

"No," answered I, thoroughly vanquished.

"Well, then you are a dear boy, and I like you!"

I felt the touch of soft, warm lips on my neck . . . . I closed my
eyes, that the dark night sky and the shining stars might not see
me. And when I recognized what had happened to me, I felt ashamed.
Marusya disappeared, and soon returned with a bag in her hand.

"Papa said you should go out with the horses for the night. Here is
some food in the bag. Take it and go out."

This she shot out quickly, and in a tone of authority, as befits the
daughter of the patron, and as if what had passed between us were
nothing but a dream.

"Going out for the night" was a peculiar custom. You can have no
idea of what it meant. The logic of it was this: The cattle that
had been worked the whole of the day were, to be sure, earning their
fodder for the day. And the owners felt under obligation and
necessity to feed them during their working hours. But how about
the night, when the animals rested, and did no work? Where should
the fodder for the night time come from? So the custom developed of
letting the animals browse in some neighbor's meadow during the
night. That was cheaper. But that neighbor also had cattle; he,